


there's no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

by felicity



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Christian high school, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, harry's a lil flamboyant, he is in fact straight, louis's the fuck boy in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felicity/pseuds/felicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>UMMMM OK SO ITS SHORT BECAUSE I WROTE IT FOR SCHOOL ... but u should read it anyway. thanks and big love xxxx</p>
    </blockquote>





	there's no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

**Author's Note:**

> UMMMM OK SO ITS SHORT BECAUSE I WROTE IT FOR SCHOOL ... but u should read it anyway. thanks and big love xxxx

 

Louis happens to be one of the few students who aren't making too much noise and fuss over how _awful_ Mondays are at half eight, always having preferred to mourn over the first day of the week privately instead. 

 

He’s sat in the front left hand corner of the room, by the window, which is the spot he’d claimed to be his since the very first day in room 11, two years ago.

 

It’s gloomy outside, but there’s just enough white light pouring in through the framed window for his sharp cerulean eyes to be able to scan over the fifty fourth page of _Advanced_ _Physics_. Glancing up, he notices the teacher walk in, and the kids surrounding him fall into a murmured silence.

 

Mr Chen’s always had brilliant timing. Bless him.

 

So has the boy who sits next to him, (ever since the the same lesson four weeks ago, where they’d been assigned as partners for their newest project on electromagnetic electricity), Harry, actually, who manages to oddly make it just on time this particular morning, and dumps a stack of work books and folders on the table lined up against Louis’. Louis has to hold back from groaning.

 

_Be nice._

 

He inhales in a deep breath through his nostrils and it’s during the exhale that Harry taps him.

 

Harry looks far too innocent for someone who’s so _filthy_ , Louis thinks, but he’ll keep his snarky remarks for another time. It’s hard to when Harry’s got a rainbow loom bracelet on his left wrist along with the few others that never seem to leave him though, and Louis briefly allows himself to think about how he’s probably going to tell Liam during recess.

 

He gives Harry a look that clearly says _back_ _off_ and Harry’s fingers drop in a beat. Louis can see a flash of humiliation and he thinks the boy deserves it.

 

 “What is it, Harry?” He snaps for really no reason at all, and he figures Harry is at least used to it by now. “Did you re-type the experiment like you were supposed to?”

 

Harry nods, solemn, and passes Louis the printed sheets. The theory part of the project was pretty much done, he knew that, they just needed to film the experiment the next lesson.

 

“Right, good.”He pauses as his eyes read over the words typed in Calibri, and momentarily catch onto dark, naturally curled lashes that border emerald green. “You can stop looking at me now.”

 

He speaks to him like Harry’s some sort of a savage, and he wonders if Harry’s ever thought _why. Why_ Louis is among the people that degrade him for being a little flamboyant, challenging gender norms, why they’d turned him so quiet and secluded when he used to be so full of _life,_ so confident, and _why_ now he’s anything but.

 

It made sense, though, the environment wasn’t exactly encouraging so Harry wasn’t out yet, and quite frankly, Louis didn’t think he needed to be. The majority of the school had already guessed it, anyway. He could see it in the way they looked at him.

 

But the question that seemed to run laps around his head was, _Doesn_ _’t God love everybody?_

 

Or at least that’s what he’d picked up on, in the compulsory religion class that he attended two periods a week.

 

The all boys Christian High School, St George, seemed to have a special way with words.

 

—

 

 

Every fortnight, they all attend a Chapel service where they are given the opportunity to connect with God and grow in their relationship and understanding Him. The chapel encourages its students to engage and interact with God’s word through a Gospel focused message, pray about important issues with their fellow peers, and worship God through music and song. Chapel themes and topics continue over an entire term and are usually centred on a particular Bible book or relevant theme.

 

This term’s theme is relationships, and Harry really should have been prepared.

 

He’s zoned out when Mr Smith reads out the famous quote, ”You shall not lie with a male as one lies with a female; it is an abomination.”

 

And he wishes he was still subconscious when Mr Smith continues, “God's Word says that homosexuality is unnatural, a perversion, an abomination, fornication, vile affections, and a great sin against Him.”He then goes on to say a few more quotes on the topic, but Harry blanks out and the words loop like a broken record.

 

It isn't that the first time he’s heard about the act being unnatural, obviously, but it’s probably the way knowing faces turned his way when the pull on the rainbow band snaps loud enough against his skin, too loud, that it breaks the tranquillity the Chapel holds.

 

_An abomination._

 

—

 

Physics is last period, and Harry has his camera set up in front of the lab bench they’re going to be using, propped up on a black tripod.

 

“You know,” Louis says conversationally as he sits on a stool and watches Harry make his way back and forth, setting up equipment. Louis had promised to pack up if he set it up. “Smith asked me if I knew why you looked so upset today.”

 

That makes him raise his head up, remember that yeah, he’s not the best at concealing emotions and pushes his caramel fringe to the side. Louis never initiates conversations unless he really has to, so, he’s listening.

 

“I told him you’re gay,” Louis says it like he personally knows, and like he’s never considered the consequences, “and so he said he’d be calling your parents today,” Harry’s throat tightens, and the lump forming at the back of his throat is almost immediate, “Do they know you’re queer, Harry?”

 

He drops the camera.

 

“You coward,” He breathes the last word out, and the camera’s still on the floor. His eyes are stinging with salt water and he feels the need to leave, right now. But they’re twenty minutes into class and if he left, he’d be screwed, anyway.

 

Harry ponders what his parents are going to think of their son, once they get the call from the deputy, that will most likely recommend of sending him to conversion therapy. He wonders what his family, what Anne and Rob, and his sister Gemma, are going to think of him when he faces them about it, and whether they’re still going to love him once he steps through their front door.

 

All he can think of whether he’s going to get kicked out like the boy in year twelve the previous year. He’s not prepared.

 

 

 

Harry turns around so he’s facing the wall, and his fingers are clench into fists as he breathes, counts to ten and makes a solid effort to remain calm—for now at least.

 

He’s lucky it works enough for him to continue on, to get through the period, and leave as soon the bell rings through the school. Harry doesn’t word a phrase before leaving, sweeps his bag over one shoulder, and leaves the building.

 

He knows he’s not going to go home, though, so he finds an isolated spot behind the broad structure instead, and drops against the wall. His eyes have been salt watered ever since Louis mentioned it so he lets it out, lets them spill and roll off his cheeks and soak his arms that covered the pair of trousered legs that folded up right against his chest.

 

And it feels pathetic, he hates himself for ever wanting to befriend Louis, ever attempting to, and ever thinking of him as remotely attractive, because it’s all come tumbling down now, and he’s terrified.

 

His eyes are a blur, when he pulls out his phone from one of the front pockets of his back pack, opens up a new message to the only person he knows he can trust. They’d met sober at a birthday party in the midst of drunk teens, just around a year and a half ago, just before everything started to spiral downwards.  
 

 

 **Harry** : can’t go home, is it ok if i stay over yours for a bit ? ill explain later

 

 **Alaska:) :** p much grounded till next week :( what’s going on????? everything ok? xxxx

 

It’s then that Harry goes to explain, maybe even beg for a place to stay, until he could figure out some sort of a tactic. So, he starts typing, and continues to draw up air that turns into sniffles.

 

He doesn’t hear the footsteps, he feels them, and when he looks up, it’s surprising and a little too late to run away, because out of a school full of people he resents, the boy standing before him is the last person he probably wants to be looking at right now.

 

He goes to speak up, protest, tell him to leave and tell him he’s ruined things enough. But alas, Louis takes the chance first.

 

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you going home?”It doesn’t sound patronising.

 

Strange.

 

There’s an eternity of uncomfortable silence between them, and Harry knows his cheeks are probably stained. It doesn’t half reflect on how horrible he actually feels. “Would you?”

 

Probably not. He shrugs. “It’s not even that bad, if they love you, they’ll-” Louis's personally never seen it work, “They’ll get you some _help_ and then you can stop being so damned miserable.”

 

A laugh escapes Harry’s mouth, but humour is the last thing heard behind it.

 

“I don’t have a place to stay,”He wipes his nose with his wrist, and returns his gaze to the half completed paragraph. “I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

 

Louis just stares back at him, his hands tucking themselves inside his trousers, thumb hanging onto the edge of the fabric. He can hear the red Toyota leaving school grounds in his peripheral vision.

 

I’m not, trust me. “Stay with me,” Louis can feel his heart beat in his throat as he licks his lips and swallows his words to try and absorb the depth of them himself. “my family are at my Nan’s for the weekend.”

 

Harry loathes himself for considering it, and for accidentally deleting the text and taking it as a sign to go with the person that’s made him fall into the situation in the first place. But—the offer’s there, he has ten dollars sitting in his pocket, and he can’t turn it down, not now.

 

“Just—tell me, tell me you won’t tell them I’m hiding.”

 

“I can’t promise.”

 

—

 

It’s not the first time Louis’s done something he’s regretted. He’s been taught making mistakes is a part of life, a natural process of learning, but this one time, he knows he’s messed up, really messed up because it’s two am and he can hear distant sobs from the living room. It’s been going for an hour, now, and the guilt in Louis’chest stands heavy.

 

It’s at half past two that Louis trudges down to the couch where Harry’s supposed to be sleeping, a cup of water in hand and fingers that fiddle with the soft fabric of grey sweatpants. He places the cup on the coffee table and kneels besides the white slick sectional, where Harry’s sprawled out and facing away. His head’s also covered beneath the covers as Louis hears him attempt to quieten himself down.

 

“Harry,” There’s no apparent response so rubs his sleep ridden eyes, leans a bit closer. “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t think he’s ever been so genuine about the way he’s felt his entire life.

 

Louis just watches as Harry shuffles and re-adjusts until he’s rolled over and laid on his back and looking at him with eyes that have their whites replaced with pink. “I’m sorry.”He says again, and this time, it’s no louder than a whisper.

 

The guilt’s choking him now, blocking his airways, and he doesn’t understand why, or how it happens, but Louis leans in just enough for their mouths to meet for a peck, and for the longest time, he feels like he can breathe again.

 

It doesn’t last for long though, so Louis stands up and leaves.

 

—

 

Harry wants to know what the hell that was about, he really does. But Louis’s been avoiding speaking about anything that went on the night before, and well. At least he’s not treating him like he would at school, so, he really has no room to say anything. Louis’feeding him and treating him alright, and he doesn’t want to lose the temporary safe hide out he has for now.

 

They’re having dinner now, something Harry had subtly helped Louis out with cooking, and Harry waits until Louis’close to finishing before he spills what he’s been dying to ask all day.

 

“Why’d you do that last night?”

 

Louis’in the middle of cutting chicken that he freezes. Harry notices it’s almost instant, the way Louis’cheeks flush and any eye contact becomes limited.

 

“You give me all this crap at school and then you pull that.” Harry’s being confronting and Louis can’t stand it. Harry resumes to push on it anyway. “What’s it supposed to mean?”

 

Louis acts nonchalant and pretends he’s still interested in the remaining salad that he’s uselessly stabbing his fork at. “Louis.” Harry’s voice is exhausted, and so he sighs and pushes his chair back, turning away to place his dish in the sink.

 

And that’s when he cracks.

 

“What am I supposed to say?!” He stands up, slams his hands down on the island countertop, revelling in the sting from the harsh contact on the linoleum. “I did it because I felt _bad_ for you.”

 

“Isn’t that against the bible though? Against God?” Harry throws back, raising his voice to match Louis’. He’s burning up from inside, can’t believe Louis’s pathetic enough to pretend it was a voluntary act of kindness. “Seemed to really believe in it yesterday when you got me help. And m’not some charity case, if that’s what you think of me.”

 

“Well, you’re homeless right now, aren’t you?”

 

Harry’s speechless.

 

 _“I don’t have a place to stay,_ ” He mocks him and for once in his life, Harry wants to genuinely just. Hit him. “Wasn’t that you yesterday, Harry?”

 

Harry steps forward and Louis stays intact where he’s moved to the pathway with the fridge and counter on either side of him.“You’re such a fucking dick, Louis,“He says as brings hands to Louis’chest, knocks him back, and Louis stumbles backwards even though he’s trying to make an attempt to shove Harry away.

 

It’s when he catches a glimpse of Louis close up that he notices Louis’eyes have glossed up. “ _You’re_ the faggot,”Louis spits out as if it makes sense, but tasting all the same like venom to Harry anyway. “Your parents hate you, and God hates you, and so do I,”He tries, but the way his voice cracks into a whimper says differently.

 

Louis’s in denial. He doesn’t want to admit it, and it’s then that Harry catches on. He doesn’t want to be labeled as gay, doesn’t want to be vile, and he really did think it was a choice, had tried fixing himself for the past years and so admitting it would be like facing defeat.

 

Arms envelope him in, and after a fair bit of squirming, trying to break free, and shouting at Harry to fuck off, he settles, breaks into a fresh round of tears.

 

“I don’t hate you,” He sniffles into Harry’s shoulder, and he’s too ashamed to raise his head so Harry lets him be. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I know.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> um also if you happened to like it kudos and comments are highly appreciated :-) x 
> 
> ps im @twinkflames on twitter


End file.
